


The Living Life Job

by Judayre



Category: Leverage
Genre: OT3, Other, lots of comfort, some every day occurrences, some less so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judayre/pseuds/Judayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes they work easily together.  Sometimes it's more difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker wanted ice cream. It wasn't her fault it was four in the morning.

Normally, Eliot would have woken long before a body clattered through his window and onto the floor. In his defense, they had just come back from a job and he was both jet lagged and tired. And supposed to be safe, since he was in his own apartment.

When he opened is eyes, it was to see Parker sitting cross legged on top of him, eating something out of one of his own bowls.

“You didn’t have ice cream,” she said, glaring at him accusingly.

“For crying out loud, Parker, we just got back from around the god damned world. Of course I don’t have ice cream.”

“Hardison had ice cream.”

“Then why didn’t you climb through his window?”

“Your bowls are better.” She took a bite that sounded far too crunchy to be ice cream. "Five flavors of ice cream,“ she continued. "But he said he could only carry three if he was going to climb through your window at four in the morning. We’ll have to work on that.”

Eliot was reminded of the sound that woke him and looked over to see Hardison pulling himself to his feet. He gave a wave and handed a bag over to Parker. "We’re forgetting the main question,“ he pointed out. "Who climbs through someone’s window at 4 am for ice cream?”

Eliot had propped himself up on his arms to glare at Parker better. She looked up from the bag of ice cream. "I wanted ice cream,“ she said as though that made everything make sense.

"Wait, if the ice cream just got here, what are you eating? How long have you been here anyway?” Eliot demanded.

“Cereal. Nate has all the good kinds. You just have Cheerios and Corn Chex.” She started dishing something purple into her bowl. "And you know, you have this little frown on your face when you sleep. It’s really kind of cute, like your trying to intimidate someone in your sleep. Do you dream about beating people up?“

Eliot growled at her and she lightly leapt to her feet. She snagged Hardison’s hand and led the way out to go get him a bowl as well. Knowing them well enough to know he wasn’t going to get them to leave, Eliot got up and pulled on clothes, then followed.

"What kind do you want, Eliot?” Parker called. "There’s purple passion fruit, rocky road, and… Vanilla?“ He came into the room in time to see her look up at Hardison like he was crazy.

"I’ll have the vanilla,” he answered, because when Parker was like this it was best just to go along with it. She turned the expression to him. "It’s four in the morning. If I have to have ice cream it’s going to be something plain.“

"I’m with him,” Hardison said. "Just the rocky road for me.“

Parker shook her head and scooped out bowls for both of them, then emptied all three containers onto the cereal still in the bottom of the bowl. Then she hopped over the counter and sat on it, pulling Hardison close by wrapping her legs around him.

"Look, if you’re going to do that get out of my place,” Eliot said.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Eliot,” Parker said. She disentangled one leg and used it to pull Eliot close. He told himself that he was still just going along with her because it was easier than not, not that he wanted to be closer to them. "Now you can touch Hardison’s butt too,“ she continued like she was reading his mind.

Hardison swiveled his eyes to look at Eliot, and before Eliot could say anything, he had one long arm around him pulling him even closer.

"I do have a nice butt,” Hardison murmured.

Eliot scooped his hair back out of his face and wondered when this had become his life. Then one arm snaked around Hardison of its own accord (and discovered that Hardison wasn’t lying). He obediently opened his mouth so Parker could feed him a spoonful of ice cream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you have to indulge your geek boyfriend and go watch The Hobbit in theaters.

They walked out of the theater into the cold December air, Hardison conducting what felt like a complete recap of the movie to an interested but mostly unresponsive Eliot.

“And then he pull out his sword - you could see in the man’s eyes when he decide there ain’t no other way–”

“There wasn’t.” Hardison stopped talking to glare, so Eliot stopped as well and continued. "Look, Azog has both height and weight on him, he’s flat on his back, and the sword is pressing straight down. He had no way to move, and if he didn’t pull away somehow it would’ve just kept comin’ down until he killed himself with his own sword block. Pull it out and, sure, he gets stabbed sooner. But he put Azog off balance enough to go in for the kill.“

He nodded approval and Hardison felt a chill that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures. "You know that ain’t you, right, man?” Eliot gave him the same fond smile his Nana had when he’d said they would be okay even with all the medical bills. He pushed closer, crowding into Eliot’s personal space - a place he knew he was lucky to be allowed.

“Thorin, he all alone up there. Bilbo’s down for the count, nephews gone, Dwalin off somewhere busting heads and no com. That ain’t you.” He moved even closer, pressing their heads together so when he spoke no one else could hear. "We got your back, man. I got you.“

They were still a moment, looking in each other’s eyes, puffing out the same clouds of breath. Then Eliot smiled, a small smile just for Hardison. "I know.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the last two scenes of the San Lorenzo Job, Eliot needs some comforting.
> 
> Smut. What he needs is smut.

Sometimes taking a shower felt like those shampoo commercials wanted you to think it did. After certain kinds of jobs he needed the feel of it - just a few moments where it felt like he could scrub it all off of himself. It was years since he’d been raw and red at the end of a shower, but sometimes standing under the water was just so damn good. Successfully getting rid of Moreau was one of those times, one he never thought would happen.

He tilted his head back, pushing his hands through the slippery feeling of soap that made his hair clean. And it was so damn good to stand there under the spray, free and clean, and it felt like there were so many hands in his hair, and–

“Damn, man, your hair is soft. I know it’s just hair, but I half thought it would be made of iron or some shit.”

“Damnit, Hardison!” Eliot exclaimed, pivoting on one foot. "Have you lost your damn mind!?“

The other man smiled disarmingly at him, and it was hard to keep attention focused on his face with the way the water traced lovingly down his dark skin.

"Might be that. I did agree to this. But, nah, man, I ain’t crazy.”

Arms wrapped around Eliot from behind.

“I am,” Parker said breathlessly from behind before he could throw her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded tightly, muscles twitchy in Parker’s hold.

“Proving it doesn’t matter,” she answered, mouth right near his ear and making him shiver. "All that Moreau stuff. You don’t know everything I’ve done either. Doesn’t matter.“

Eliot’s eyes focused on Hardison, who grinned at him again, white teeth flashing. "What do you think we’re doing in your shower? Gonna get you good and dirty, then clean you up again.”

Parker had sunk her teeth into his neck right at the jugular, and Eliot had no coherent response as Hardison sank to his knees and smiled up at him. Eliot felt the way a security system might on having that attention focused on him. And when Hardison’s mouth was on him, it was only Parker’s arms that kept him standing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Grave Danger Job, Hardison needs some comfort.
> 
> It still means smut.

Hardison knew he was a lazy man. He’d been told more than once that he hacked so he wouldn’t have to get a real job. Nana had told him over and over that if he just put some attention into it he could do whatever he wanted (which he was doing, don’t you worry, Nana).

The bed had never looked less inviting. His rooms were large enough that he had never been claustrophobic in them, but the thought of getting under covers, or even of lying in the bed….

He nearly jumped when Parker landed in front of him in the doorway. Last he’d seen her was in McRory’s. She seemed to have recovered and was giving him the smile she’d give a mark. The eyes were all her own.

“You remember that thing we talked about?” she asked.

“That thing…?” While he’d been buried alive? Before he’d been buried alive?

“Before you jumped me in the shower.”

Ah, that thing. And he could feel Eliot’s crossed arms on his back. And standing in a doorway with the two of them penning him in was too much. His breath started to come shakily.

“I thought about it,” Parker continued, “and this time you’re the one who needs us.” He started to shake his head at her but she kept talking. "With what we do, you have to get over the claustrophobia. And we need to work on your breath control.“

Hardison blinked at her in confusion, then felt strong arms surround and lift him.

"What you doin’, man?” he demanded, staying as still as he could so they wouldn’t overbalance.

Eliot dropped him on the bed. With his teammates there it wasn’t frightening, and he scrambled up on his elbows. Eliot was topless and already working on stripping off Hardison’s pants. He smiled, predatory (but there was something under it - Hardison could see it there).

“Turn about’s fair play,” Eliot answered. "Keep your breath even.“

The last coherent thought Hardison had was that Parker and Eliot just didn’t play fair.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're on a trip.

“Where are we,” Parker asked, not opening her eyes in Lucille’s passenger seat.

“Just passing though Balmville,” Hardison answered.

“Bombville,” Parker repeated, smiling. “Cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Balmville is in New York (at least the one I'm familiar with). I pass it every time I visit my in-laws.


	6. Teach Me To Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardison wants to fight.

“Teach me to fight.”

Eliot looked up from his mixing to see Hardison leaning on the counter. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man. You teach Sophie and Parker. Why not me? Think I can't do it? I keep in shape.”

“It's not that.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

Eliot sighed. “Hardison, you're black. I don't want you to get in trouble because you know how to hold yourself.”

Hardison paused, mouth open slightly. “I'm in trouble no matter what,” he said finally, voice soft. “I want to be able to get out of it on my own.”

Eliot reached out to grip Hardison’s arm. “You'll never be on your own while I can get to you.”

That earned him a smile, and there were a lot of things Eliot was willing to do to keep that smile in place. “What I taught Parker and Sophie was self defense,” he said. “They're not going out to get into fights.”

“Neither am I. But when you do what we do, fights come to you.”

Eliot couldn't argue that. Not with the amount of times he'd had to take people down to protect the team.

Hardison was quiet, uncharacteristically intent, and Eliot considered. He liked helping the women take care of themselves. Sophie knew that a right hook sometimes got your farther than words and was happy to learn - especially since it could help hold up personas.

Parker, well she would always rely on her speed to get away, but she was just unpredictable enough to give someone a really bad day. She was too fond of jumping on him from heights, but he didn't exactly discourage it. It tended to end their practice....

Eliot glances at Hardison again, this time imagining him stripped down and sweating, all of that intensity on him.

“All right. I'll teach you to fight.”


End file.
